


the fit’s still the same

by stevebuckiest



Series: the sub steve book club [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Banter, Bottom Steve Rogers, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The First Avenger, Dirty Talking Bucky Barnes, Dom Bucky Barnes, Grinding, Insecurity, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Reunion Sex, Sub Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, Uniform Kink, as always bc they never shut up, creative license can come in handy, did i follow the tl? probs not!, in an unspoken sort of way, kind of ..., more like an extended one, the bar scene, this was written completely to indulge the fact NO ONE WRITES ABOUT STEVES BOOTY SHORTS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27283621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevebuckiest/pseuds/stevebuckiest
Summary: That little guy from Brooklyn. Not Captain America from Erskine’s lab. Bucky’s guy, his little sweetheart, all of the other names that Steve used to flick Bucky in the nose for calling him back in their shithole apartment. That’s who Steve wants to be no matter what body or goddamn uniform he’s stuck in.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: the sub steve book club [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891096
Comments: 15
Kudos: 266





	the fit’s still the same

**Author's Note:**

> blink and you’ll miss the lotr quote, blink again and you’ll miss me using the alternate tfa script for the bar scene where bucky canonically compliments steve’s ass. don’t believe me about the booty shorts? please take a gander at steve’s uso uniform because they are there and they are gorgeous...when bucky asked about the outfit, be honest. we all know that was the part he was talking about.

Steve knows that he’s in for it as soon as he sees the crooked grin Bucky’s sporting on his face glinting in the sepia toned light of the pub that night. Really, he should have known he’d be in for it from the sideways look Bucky had given him earlier when they were still as far away as marching back into camp- it’d been all Steve could do to settle for patting Bucky’s offered out arm gently, quick as lightning blood flow courtesy of the serum leaving him blushing beet red as soon as he knew he’d been caught staring. How could he help that, though? Weeks apart and spent wondering if the love of his life was still alive- Steve has always looked at Bucky like he’d strung up the moon for him, and honestly, he might as well have with how much he’s always done to keep Steve safe. Keep him alive. 

_Don’t you go where I can’t follow_ , he always says, usually right after Steve gets into another stupid fight. _I’ll lose my heart if you do._ This war might be the stupidest fight Steve has ever gotten in, only this time- it’s him following Bucky and not the other way around. 

Bucky’s lucky Steve didn’t jump him right then and there to do something dumb and sappy, like cry on him in front of everybody just to show the overwhelming relief at getting him back he’s been feeling since he foud him strapped down in that god forsaken lab mumbling out his own name and number like a broken record. 

Steve getting to be the one wading in to get him out of trouble this time doesn’t change anything, though, not one bit. At least Steve hopes not- it doesn’t change things on _his_ end, but he’s gotten a little bit used to change recently, hasn’t he? Bucky’s the one getting shocked today, what with Steve turning up out of the blue in a battlezone sporting a brand new big body and a garish uniform just to top it all off. As if it wasn’t _already_ a lot to deal with without the stripes and spangles.

Steve knows Bucky loves him, he just hopes he still _sees_ him under all the brawn and the red-white-and-blue is all. Before, Steve had been small and sharp with a tongue quick as a whip- and now, he’s a lot less small, feeling painfully out of his element, and surrounded by higher ups that have proven to not take well to his smart mouthed remarks. Even when he’s right, like he had been with the 107th. 

He’s still the same old Steve Rogers underneath all the bells, badges, and whistles, but stuck in a place where no one knew or let alone _liked_ him before he was this...the hero worship he’s been shown is a little overwhelming, especially after being treated like a laughingstock before. 

He doesn’t feel like he deserves the praise yet, and truth be told, the only one he really wants to be proud of is him currently sitting at the bar, slowly swirling gin in a glass and looking up at Steve’s approach with grey eyes that flick over him from head to toe as he comes over in a way that makes his toes curl in his dress shoes.

Besides, if he’s being honest...Steve would rather save the hero worship for Bucky. He’s the real hero after all, over here hurting and helping while Steve pranced around on stage like one of the queens that used to live on their street and do it for money. Steve finds a little would be humor in that- the fact that if someone like him had danced around on stage in too tight shorts and a gaudy get-up back home they would have been in danger of getting arrested, but now that he’s a _man’s_ man (in the figurative sense- he’s been a man’s man physically since he was 13 and crying at confession every week for wanting to touch his best friend) it’s all fine and dandy to practically whore himself out to the country in order to raise morale as some sort of propaganda pin up for gals to gush over and fellas to find competition in. 

Bucky hadn’t even signed up for this, but he’s over here doing his best anyways. He’s the hero. Steve is just the lucky bastard to gets to be loud about it for the press. 

Steve has been missing Bucky so much these last few weeks, and if this warzone is the space between a rock and a hard place, Bucky is definitely the rock Steve is going to be clinging to. He’s got the muscles to latch on tight like he’s always wanted to and everything now. That is, if Bucky still wants to have him. If he thinks he can still find it in him to hold Steve now that he’s not some fragile, tiny thing anymore. 

Steve has the sudden terrifying thought that maybe Bucky won’t want him because he doesn’t think Steve needs him anymore, that maybe he’ll scram because his obligation is over- but that’s not true, any of it. Bucky would never. He’s too good a man for that. And in all truth...Steve thinks he needs Bucky more now than ever. 

The aforementioned crooked grin on Bucky’s face is promising, at least. Steve just doesn’t know _what_ it’s promising yet. It doesn’t look nearly as empty as the one he’d given Steve earlier before leading the _Let’s hear it for Captain America_! cry (which had made Steve’s stomach sink and sing at the same time- he’d been so happy to have Bucky back and know he’d accomplished a good thing with his actions, but hearing that name come out of Bucky’s mouth like it was who he was to him now….). Steve’s nerves settle the closer he gets to him, his heart always falling into orbit around Bucky Barnes like he has a gravitational pull. He might as well, to Steve. 

Steve’s arm brushes against Bucky’s back (maybe on purpose) as he passes behind him to join him at the bar, and even through the thick material of their uniform jackets, Steve feels the warmth of it sink in all over. It’s the first touch past that pat on the arm that they’ve gotten to share since they both got out of danger, and the relief of it has Steve falling maybe a little too heavily onto the stool beside Bucky, but the brunette chooses graciously not to say anything about it. 

Instead, he opts for a different kind of tease, spoken in his telltale Brooklyn drawl so thick that it makes Steve homesick just to hear even with half of his home sitting right next to him. “Told you, they were all idiots.” _They_ clearly being the other men. _Bucky’s_ men. 

Steve’s stomach twists funnily at the morose joke his mind manages to make about himself not being Bucky’s only guy now, as ridiculous as it is. Bucky takes a sip of his drink after, giving Steve the time to settle and watch the line of his throat flex on the swallow before replying. 

“How about you?” he asks, trying to sound casual. Bucky leans forward to set his drink down and Steve finds himself unconsciously leaning forward with him, but plays it off as adjusting his seat once he realizes just what he’s doing. “Ready to follow _Captain America_ into the jaws of death?” He puts enough exaggeration onto the name for it to come out as a joke or maybe a humble brag, but there’s also a real sentiment behind it, a tentatively unspoken question of whether that’s who Bucky sees him as now or not. 

Steve’s body has changed, but his voice hasn’f, and apparently neither has Bucky’s skill at being able to pick up on when something is bothering him. 

His expression softens, bangs falling in his face as he tilts his chin towards where Steve is anxiously staring at him. “Hell no,” he says firmly, smiling faintly and shaking his head after like Steve has just asked him the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard. Steve’s stomach flips, and then after Bucky’s next words- “That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I’m following him”- he feels like he’s just gone through every ride on Coney Island at once with the butterflies that erupt. 

Bucky’s cadence pauses right before the word _dumb,_ which normally Steve would scoff and smack his arm at for saying, but he can’t bring himself to, not when Bucky is looking at him right after and saying what they both know he’s been needing to hear since he stepped out of that chamber after the serum took effect and realized he looked like a completely different person. 

_That little guy from Brooklyn._ Not Captain America from Erskine’s lab. _Bucky’s_ guy, his little sweetheart, all of the other names that Steve used to flick Bucky in the nose for calling him back in their shithole apartment. That’s who Steve wants to be no matter what body or goddamn uniform he’s stuck in. 

140 pounds and an entire eye level later, Bucky still sees Steve for who he is, and that’s a truth so hard hitting that Steve has to swallow and drop his head. Again, before he does something dumb and sappy, like sit up on the bar and let Bucky have his way with him right then and there. But realistically (and legally), he can’t and he won’t. He misses Bucky’s touch and the privacy shared between them something awful, but Bucky deserves this night out with what he’s been through just _today_ , and hopefully with the hotel rooms upstairs with their names on them- there’ll be plenty of time to let Bucky _really_ see all of him later. For them to have a proper reunion. Fuck, Steve would settle for just a hug and a kiss, he’s that desperate for him

For now, he tries to keep the obviously smitten smile on his face from shining too bright, biting his lip and propping his elbow on the bar instead while Bucky takes another swig of gin beside him with Steve watching him out of the corner of one eye. His bangs are flopping into his face with product long worn off, and paired alongside the gentle music playing in the background, Steve can almost imagine they’re back home in a dance hall if he tries hard enough. Bucky’s face is more tired, his outfit a dress uniform instead of a dress shirt, but when he leans over and nudges a conspiratorial hand towards Steve- that’s the same sly smile on his face Steve has seen him use on countless girls back home for show and use countless times on _Steve_ to get something he wants. 

He nods at the tour poster on the wall behind them, head twisting back to point Steve in the direction of his own likeness plastered onto the paper under the hastily scrawled “PERFORMANCE CANCELLED- NOT TO BE RESCHEDULED”. The addition unfortunately does nothing to hide the clear show of the shorts and tights poster-Steve is clad in while he points towards the viewer. 

Steve blushes and ducks his head again, Bucky laughing. It’s embarrassing, but Steve wouldn’t change eliciting that sound for the world. 

Bucky’s voice comes out suggestive when he speaks next. Steve isn’t surprised- Bucky never quite was the good Catholic boy his ma wanted him to be (for obvious reasons). “But you’re keeping the outfit, right?” He grins even wider after getting the words out, looking humored and hopeful both at Steve’s obviously flustered response, head jerking up and mouth falling open. 

Steve loves him, and he’s happier than anything to have him back- but sometimes he could smack him upside the head. He’s a heel, a hopeless flirt, and horribly lewd half the time- but like he said, Steve wouldn’t change it for the world. Not even when Bucky is smirking at him like that right out in the open where anyone could see and suspect what it means. 

Again, as soon as Steve saw his smile earlier, he knew he was done for. But this right here? Bucky back to himself enough to tease Steve and try to rile him up like he used to, looking at him with eyes so clearly full of affection? That’s what really does Steve in. 

He’s been gone for Bucky a long time, though. They both know that. 

He has to force his mouth shut before Bucky makes another dumb joke about it, settling on rolling his eyes as if the line didn’t cut straight to the sappy-sweet part of him only Bucky could get to. Bucky laughs again, and Steve finds his eyes flicking from his face so his lower body half obscured under the bar before settling normally again, lashes fluttering at the knowing look he finds Bucky giving him. 

“You know what?” he answers, voice purposefully light. “I think it’s kind of growing on me.” He doesn’t mention complaining about the tights just last week- Bucky doesn’t need to know. Besides, maybe Steve was just tired of them with no one around to appreciate them, but as things would have it now…. “Don’t get your hopes up, though. It’s not exactly regulation.” 

And ain’t that the truth- a flimsy t-shirt, shorts, and tights all made out of cotton that cling too tight to all the wrong places (at least for the public view- Bucky most likely wouldn’t complain based off of the half lidded look he’s giving Steve right now). 

Bucky snorts and pushes his bangs back, taking the final sip of what’s left in his glass and knocking it back down against the bar with a wink thrown at Steve so fast he almost misses it. “I don’t know, Stevie, you saw all those guys when you came back.” He pauses, and Steve takes a moment to look at him quizzically while basking in the sound of the sorely missed nickname coming from Bucky’s lips, which quirk up into a devilish smile before he leans in even closer to whisper out his next words. “I don’t think they were cheering _just_ for you.”

If the outfit line had any effect on Steve, this one hits twice as hard, especially with the way Bucky reaches over with a laugh and ruffles his hair after, clasping his shoulder with a smile that’s bright as day even considering the tired lines around his eyes. He doesn’t even bother to be shameless about the clearly sordid intention of the remark, just squeezes Steve’s newly broad shoulder through his jacket and darts his eyes to the side with another easy grin. 

“You rationed, sugar?” he says lowly, removing his hand and scrubbing it over his stubbly jaw instead while he gives Steve a heady look. He’s ready to go upstairs, it seems. 

So is Steve, but even with as eager as he’s feeling to get to touch his guy again, he can’t let the cliche line slide without at least an eye roll and a hesitant response. “Guess that depends on who you ask,” he responds quietly, tracking Bucky’s expression carefully. “I’d say so,” he falters and waits for Bucky to raise his eyebrows. “Would you?”

Bucky’s demeanor shifts to something softer at the sound of Steve’s askance, gaze staying locked with his eyes steadily while he responds. “You come upstairs with me and I’ll show you my answer,” he murmurs, pushing up off the bar and getting to his feet, halting to pat Steve on the back and lean back down to whisper in his ear, “But I’ll tell you now, it’s always gonna be a yes from me, sweetheart.”

With that, he straightens back up, and for a brief moment Steve allows himself to enjoy the feeling of Bucky towering over him like he used to, even if it’s just for a second before he settles on getting up and following suit behind Bucky up the stairs to where their rooms are located. They bid a few fellow soldiers goodnight on their way up, lucky for the fact that no one questions their simultaneous exit considering how long the day was. It’s only when Steve sees the telltale sight of red lipstick and dark auburn hair that he gets antsy, shuffling up beside Bucky on the stairs to make his way in front of him so he’s obscured from Peggy, who he just knows is here to see him. 

She’s kind of nice, she’s pretty, she’s even someone Steve might want to talk to under different circumstances- but as the circumstances _are_ right now, he’s not in the mood to talk. Not when he’s so close to finally getting what he wants from _who_ he wants. 

The _who_ in question snorts and even has the nerve to pat Steve on the ass once they’re far up enough out of view from anyone downstairs. “Eager beaver, are we?”

Steve huffs and throws a playful glare over his shoulder, cheeks flushing. “I _missed_ you, jerk.”

Bucky smiles softly and ruffles Steve’s hair again, falling in step beside him down the hallway. “I missed you too, Stevie.” His voice is genuine, and Steve wants to kiss him in that moment more than anything, but they shouldn’t risk it when someone could leave their room at any moment and see- luckily, Bucky solves that problem for him, always one step ahead. “Your room or mine?”

Steve knows that realistically there’s nothing he should be embarrassed about when it comes to Bucky- the man has changed his bedpans and seen him in every worst situation, for crying out loud, but he still has to work up the nerve to get his next suggestion out. 

“Um-“ he stumbles a little, cheeks heating up again. “My kit is in my room with all my stuff- and…you said you wanted me to keep the outfit? I, uh.” He swallows and squares his shoulders at Bucky’s bemused expression stubbornly, determined to get it out. “I did. If you wanted to, um, see it. On me.”

Bucky’s face practically lights up, eyes brightening more than they have since he first laid eyes on Steve coming to his rescue. Steve savors the sight. 

“Well,” Bucky drawls. “Lead the way, soldier. You gonna keep it tight for me in your tights?”

Steve, fishing his room key out of his pocket, makes a noise that is definitely not a squeak and promptly drops it on the floor, much to Bucky’s apparent amusement. 

“Christ, Buck,” he curses, bending down to snatch it back up. “C’mon, what if someone hears?”

“We better get inside quick, then,” Bucky says, voice a croon. He’s shamelessly ogling Steve’s ass in his dress pants, grin sharp. “Your _ass_ , sweetheart. Forget the tights, how about you put on those little shorts for me instead, yeah?”

Steve shoves at his shoulder lightly just to keep up the guise of not giving into _everything_ Bucky says so easily, but Bucky’s laugh tells him he knows anyways. Steve might be a stubborn son of a bitch in every other part of his life, but here, with Bucky? Here, he yields. Bucky’s always taken care of him, but this is the only place where Steve openly lets him. They both like it that way, even if Steve can’t help but break the spell to call Bucky a pushy bastard half the time. 

That’s exactly what he’s being right now, pressing up against Steve as soon as they get to his door and reaching around his still narrow waist to be the one who twists the knob to go inside. Steve puts on the show of rolling his eyes and grumbling, but really he’s more than glad to let Bucky take charge like this again. 

After what he’s been through, Steve doesn’t think anyone can blame Bucky for wanting to have control again. Steve definitely can’t, not when he’s so willing to give it to him in the first place.

Bucky’s grateful for it, anyhow, it seems. Immediately after the door shuts behind him with a thud, he’s twisting Steve around by the shoulders to press him against it, hands cupping his face and capturing Steve in the first kiss they’ve shared since Steve kissed him goodbye in their apartment before he left to ship off. 

Steve melts into it just as quickly, arms curling up between them to grip at Bucky’s shoulders and letting out a quiet whimper once Bucky starts licking into his mouth, slow and dirty.

God, he’s _missed_ this. It feels so different with them being the same height now, with Steve’s lungs working at full capacity. Bucky’s drawing out noises Steve didn’t even know he could _make_ without having an asthma attack, the whole exchange charged and claiming, as if Bucky wants to make them both forget every moment they were apart. It works. Steve can’t think of anything else but the man in front of him, frayed and fatigued, but still absolutely filthy.

Filthy enough to wipe his mouth off on the back of his hand when he pulls back, excess spit from their sloppy kiss shining on it just as bright as his eyes. Focusing his own bleary vision, Steve can see a slight prick of tears in them, and that just makes his eyes well up too. Christ, the pair of them. Going from sinning to sappy in seconds. 

Bucky kisses him again softly this time, hand coming back up to cup Steve’s chin and guide him into it, hold him close so when Bucky speaks, it’s a whisper between their lips. “I missed you, Stevie. Thanks for getting me out of there. My hero, huh?”

Steve’s hands tighten their grip, lump in his throat growing at Bucky’s hoarse tone. “You always come to get me out when I need it,” he says back quietly. “How could I not do the same for you?” He leans their foreheads together. 

“My sweet boy,” Bucky murmurs, “Big and stronger than ever now, but still so goddamn _sweet_ for it.” His voice is reverent, and Steve feels dizzy with it, with the knowledge that Bucky still wants him like this. He’d been more scared than he wanted to admit that Bucky wouldn’t want to give him this softness with how much he’d changed, wouldn’t want to love on him like this- but from the thigh Bucky has wedged between his legs and the erection poking Steve’s hip, Bucky _wants_. 

Steve wants too. He wants to give Bucky _everything_. 

Bucky’s hands drop from Steve’s face and get to work on loosening his tie, eyes still shining but gone half lidded at the whimper Steve lets out when his thigh presses forward. Bucky chuckles, low and dark, tossing Steve’s tie to the side once he’s done and getting to work on his uniform’s waist buckle instead. 

“After I get you naked, you’re gonna go get changed into that pretty little number of yours while I take my uniform off. Just the shirt and shorts,” Bucky instructs quietly. He nudges his thigh forward again, smiling at Steve’s grunt. “No use in hiding these gorgeous legs from sight.”

Steve has to put his arms to the side in order for Bucky to be able to help him shrug off his coat, hanging it on the handy hook next to the door and getting to work on his shirt next. 

His voice is breathy when he responds, hushed and hazy. “You think it’s pretty? I kinda thought it was ridiculous...everyone else did.” If he’s fishing for a compliment and Bucky to get a bit protective, no one has to know, not besides him and Bucky. 

Bucky snorts at the obvious effort, but doesn’t make him go wanting. “Everyone else can go to hell,” he hums, rucking Steve’s shirt up from his belt to leave it hanging open unbuttoned and getting to fumbling open his pants next. “Seeing you in that getup is something the world shouldn’ta gotten if they weren’t gonna appreciate it proper.” He grins and tweaks at one of Steve’s nipples. “I’ll make it up to you for them, how about that, sweets?”

And, _oh-_ Steve hasn’t gotten the chance to really explore this body and what feels good in it yet, not when he’s been shuffled around from place to place like a show pony, but that small sting on his chest is enough to get him leaking in his underwear by the time Bucky shoves his pants down, and based off the delighted look Bucky gives him after- he’s picked up on it. 

“Serum gave you a growth spurt _and_ a new rack, huh?” Bucky teases, twisting at the sensitive bud again, and watching Steve color. “Can’t wait to really get my hands on these, Stevie.” He leans in and kisses Steve hard again, quick to quiet his responding moan. “Or maybe my mouth,” he whispers after. 

When Bucky promptly drops down to his knees, Steve has to clap a hand over his mouth just to keep the desperate noise that wants to break free inside, cock twitching in his pants- Bucky doesn’t pay it any mind, unfortunately, opting to unlace and pull off Steve’s shoes instead. He tucks them neatly by the doorframe and looks up at Steve’s red face after in amusement, tapping at his thigh. 

“Lift up, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of these pants.” At Steve’s quick obedience, he smiles in satisfaction, folding them after and kneeling up to press a kiss to Steve’s still covered cock, now leaking a wet patch through his underwear. “That’s a good boy for me.” Steve moans into his hand in response, praise going straight to his dick. 

The underwear is next to go, which means Bucky gets to see the exact effect it has on him, aching length slapping up against the bare plane of his stomach and getting Steve’s legs shaky as he steps out of his last item of clothing and watches Bucky rise back up to his feet completely clothes and looking every bit like he wants to devour Steve whole. 

Bucky’s hands are on him immediately, settling one over his left pec (his _heart_ , Steve thinks) and the other around back to stroke at the cleft of his now ample ass. 

“Mother Mary and Joseph,” Bucky breathes out, eyes flicked down to take Steve’s new form in all of its glory, gaze hungry in the way it always is when he gets Steve naked and needing him. “Look at you, pretty baby.”

Steve inhales at the endearment and approval, Bucky’s scent gin and gun grease, but still containing the same sweet smell he’d carried over from Brooklyn. _Home._

“I’m still your baby?” he has to ask, voice quiet. “Like this, too?”

Bucky’s eyes darken, hand kneading in over Steve’s chest like he wants to dig in, pull his heart out and hold it safe from everything going on inside him. Doubt has always been Steve’s greatest enemy. Never about what he stands for, but always about himself. 

“Like this,” he kisses Steve’s left cheek, “Like _that,_ ” then the other, “Like _everything_ , you big mook. You’re mine and I’m yours, hasn’t the last decade gotten that into your thick skull yet?”

Steve can’t help but smile at the fondness in Bucky’s words. “Yeah, well, you know me,” he jokes. “Stubborn as a mule.”

“With the ass to match now,” Bucky teases, gripping it tight and making Steve’s rise up on his toes, leaning against him. Steve huffs, but Bucky just grins and kisses him sweet again. “Now I think I had some plans for you, pal. Ones that involve you getting a move on and getting prettied up for me, yeah?”

Steve swallows, nodding obediently. “Yeah,” he says, voice small and submissive. “I just- gotta get them out of my bag.”

Bucky stokes his face, pushing his hair back with an affectionate expression at Steve’s surrender. It’s the most flattering thing in the world, he’s said before. Spitfire like Steve letting Bucky have him in his whole. 

“How about you go change in the bathroom?” Bucky suggests easily. “More of a build up that way.” He grins. “I’ll even close my eyes when you come out.” Steve blushes, but nods. That sounds good to him- anything Bucky suggests when he’s like this does. Bucky touches his face again with a warm hand, kissing his forehead before stepping back to give Steve room to go do as he’s told. “And hey- skip the underwear.”

Steve’s eyes widen slightly. “But…” he says, unsure. _But my dick’s gonna hang out,_ he wants to say. The shorts are...short. And without the tights or underwear to keep him contained….

Bucky’s heated look gives him his answer. _That’s the point, dumbass._

See? Pushy bastard. 

Good thing Steve kind of likes being pushed around a little. On occasion. 

“Go,” Bucky commands. “Be good for me.” He grins, boyish and brazen. “You know you want to. I’ll take good care of you.”

Steve’s cheeks are burning again- _damn_ the serum’s blood flow- but he manages to walk his way around Bucky without falling to his knees, at least. “You always do,” he says distantly. It’s true. He _always_ does. 

Bucky’s eyes lift up from where he’s ogling Steve’s ass as he bends down to get his bag, going soft again at Steve’s earnest reply. “Damn right I do. Go on, punk. I’ll be waiting when you’re done.”

Steve shrugs his bag up, giving Bucky a slightly nervous smile over his shoulder, Bucky tossing back a cocky salute as he begins pulling off his own tie. Once Steve turns away to trudge into the bath connected to his room, he takes in a deep breath to steel his nerves, fired up from arousal. 

He’s the one who offered to do this (well, the idea of it anyways- Bucky was the one who decided to make it filthier) but for some ridiculous reason, he’s nervous. Fortunately, the knowledge he’s being good for Bucky is settling, so with a sigh he runs a hand through his hair and pointedly avoids looking at his debauched state in the mirror while he sets his bag on the counter to start pulling the scarce amount of clothing Bucky wants to see on him out to put on. 

In the end, he does finally let his gaze drift up into the mirror just to see how he looks. And boy...it’s…it’s something. The shirt is as tight as ever, and without the white thermal underneath, it’s clinging even more than it had on the stage. The top portion of the blue ends right under the line of his tits- _pecs-_ which only serves to accentuate them even more, as do the vertical stripes running up and down his already slender waist. It’s flattering, Steve would say, and he’s never been much to flatter himself. He’s always had Bucky to do it for him. 

Then, of course, there’s the shorts.

Steve blushes even though he’s still alone and reaches down a tentative hand to adjust his still hard cock inside them- like he thought before, it’s an awkward fit. If he was flaccid, he knows he’d be hanging out one of the legs, but with things in his body as heated as they are…He twists in the mirror and tries to ignore the way it’s sticking out, choosing to survey the way his ass looks instead, rounded out with the bottom of his cheeks peeking out of the hem. It’s nice, too. Bucky will like it-

Bucky’s waiting out on the bed to show him just how _much_ he likes it. How much he likes Steve. How much he missed him. 

Steve bites his lip and gives himself a final once over in the mirror before kicking his bag next to the toilet so they won’t have to deal with it when they inevitably will have to come in here to clean up. He’s thoughtful like that. 

Taking in a deep breath, he tries not to get lost in those thoughts as he approaches the door to push it open and step out nervously into the hotel room where his lover is waiting, sprawling out on the bed. 

Like he had promised, his eyes are closed, and Steve might think he’s asleep if it weren’t for the erection standing proudly between his legs in all his now-naked glory and the lazy smile that curls up the corners of his stubble surrounded mouth when he hears Steve pad back over towards him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he hums, not bothering to move past lifting a hand to beckon Steve closer eyes still shut but voice somehow approving. “C’mere and get on my lap. Wanna see you spread out on top of me.”

_Oh_ , Steve realizes with a rush. It’s one of _those_ nights. 

Bucky gets like this sometimes- power drunk and laid back. Like a lazy god every time Steve gets near enough to kiss him, all cocky smiles and sweet talk- even more than usual. Steve loves it when he’s in this type of mood himself, and considering how bad he knows they both want it tonight, he’s more than happy to let Bucky lay back while Steve loves on him right like he deserves. Bucky’s been through enough bad things, these last few weeks- but Steve? Steve is going to be so _good_ for him, good enough to get things right again, damn their circumstances to hell. Steve will be a bright spot though all the bitterness. 

With that determination in mind, he does as he’s told, climbing on the bed and crawling up on slightly clumsy limbs until he has a thigh on either side of Bucky’s still thicker waist and can set himself down delicately like Bucky told him to do. Because he’s _good_. He’s good for Bucky. 

Still, Bucky frowns faintly, and Steve has a moment of unsureness before Bucky reaches up a blind hand for Steve to take. “Stevie,” he says, slightly exasperated for reasons Steve doesn’t know. “Quit hovering. You’re not heavy enough to break me, sit yourself against me.” 

Steve hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but now that Bucky points it out, he _is_ out of the phantom fear still in the back of his mind that still isn’t convinced Bucky will want him now that he’s most likely heavier than he is thanks to weeks the brunette has gone without eating proper. He flushes and has an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Bucky raises his eyebrows and cuts it off before he can get it out. 

“Doll, if I don’t feel that perky ass snug against me in the next two seconds, I’ll be taking those uniform gloves of yours and seeing if I can get your ass red enough to match them.”

_Jesus_. Steve has to bite back a gasp because, isn’t that a thought?

Bucky smirks like he knows what Steve is thinking without even having to look. He probably does. “One…” he drawls out. Quickly, Steve settles down against him fully, cheeks flushed with the reprimand. Bucky grins smugly again. “Thank you. I’m gonna open my eyes now. Take a good look at my babydoll, yeah?”

Steve lets out a shallow sigh to prepare himself, sitting up straight. “Yeah,” he echoes. 

A moment later, Bucky’s grey eyes are blinking open lazily.

The first thing they settle on ironically enough isn’t any of the things Steve was expecting- not his tits, not his erection, not even his outfit- but instead locking on Steve’s own with a gaze so intense it makes Steve’s skin crawl like he’s been injected with the serum all over again. 

That look is the same one he’d gotten when he was skinny and sickly, and in this context, with things so _different-_ Steve feels like his heart is in his throat. 

Bucky’s, in turn, comes out through his words. “Still got those baby blues,” he says quietly, gaze not wavering. “Always the first thing to pull me in.” Then, raising the hand Steve isn’t currently holding up, he cups Steve’s chin and runs a thumb over the seam of his lips. “Same punk-ass mouth, too. Bet it’s getting you into even more trouble now that you’re in the Army and not an alley anymore, huh?”

Steve wants to squirm under the intensity of it all, but can’t bring himself to break the reverie, swallowing and letting Bucky’s thumb slip inside his mouth after he mutters out his answer. “Little bit.” 

Bucky cracks an easy smile and pushes his thumb in further until it’s pressing against Steve’s tongue and getting Steve’s eyes to go wide as he unconsciously closes his lips around it and swallows enough for Bucky to give a sharp inhale. 

“You gonna be good for me?” he asks lowly, waiting for Steve’s nod before going on. “Gonna let me boss you around even though you’re the big man now?”

Steve whines around Bucky’s finger, but doesn’t yet pull away, just blinks doe-eyed at Bucky and hopes it gets the message across. Bucky licks his lips and looks at him like he’s the best thing on planet earth, so he thinks it works.

“Yeah, everyone else might get the good Captain, but me? You’re still my good boy, Stevie.” His voice turns soft, grip tightening around Steve’s fingers. “Still my guy.”

_I love you,_ Steve thinks, but he can’t yet say it, not with Bucky’s thumb still pushed in his mouth like it’s his home. Well, Steve considers Bucky to be _his_ home and vice versa, so maybe it’s a fair sentiment. 

Bucky’s gaze finally makes its way down from Steve’s face when Steve rocks his hips down a bit, taking in for the first time the night’s (literal) star of the show. Removing his now spit-shiny thumb from Steve’s mouth, he wipes it off on his chin just to get him messy. As if Steve wasn’t already getting himself messy enough, with his erection leaking into his shorts and whatnot. 

Bucky’s large palm presses flat against the star on Steve’s chest while he drinks his fill in, mouth curving up into another lazy smile when Steve’s thighs visibly tense at the scrutiny. He rests their joined hands on one after, right up top by the hem of his shorts. 

“Christ almighty,” he rasps out. “You look like some sort of all American pin-up, sweetheart.” He raises a teasing eyebrow at Steve, tongue in cheek. “You gonna let me stick it through you?”

Half of Steve wants to smack him for the corny line at the same time the other half wants to suck him off. “Buck,” he ends up saying, beration and begging all at once. “Lemme make you feel good- please, it’s been so long. I missed you. Missed _this_.” He twitches his hips down again, erection centering attention with the movement. “Need this, need you-“

“You got me, babydoll,” Bucky interrupts softly. “You wanna make me feel good?” And isn’t that the whole point of this? Steve swallows and nods, eyes just as heavy lidded as Bucky’s. “I want you to rub yourself off on me through those shorts. Then, maybe after, I’ll fuck you. Get my head up under that star-spangled shirt of yours and see about acquainting myself with things under there at the same time.” His voice is deeper than usual, heady with lust and exuding the power Steve said he was drunk off of earlier. He knows damn well what he’s doing to Steve- he knows damn well what Steve will _let_ him do.

Hence his sharp grin at Steve’s breathed out agreement, hands letting him go to grab at his waist instead over the soft cotton of his shirt. 

“Well, get to it, then. I know we have all night, but a man’s gotta sleep sometime, and so do super soldiers.”

“If you’re not wide awake right now, I’m not doing my job right,” Steve shoots back hazily, hips shifting as he prepares himself to do what Bucky has asked. Steve isn’t good at normal dancing, not like Bucky, but if this is the kind of dance they’re talking about- he’s glad he still fits in Bucky’s lap. Even if he didn’t, he knows Bucky would want him there anyways. 

Bucky snorts and removes his hands from Steve altogether in order to sit back against the pillows, arms comfortably folding up behind his head like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Sitting back to enjoy the show, as it were, laid out and lazy, looking expectantly at Steve to begin. “It’s been a long week.” Steve’s heart momentarily sinks at the halfhearted joke, but Bucky just rolls his eyes and huffs under his breath. “C’mon, no long faces. You saved the troops, now how about you enlist in a different kind of service?”

“I’ll show _you_ long faces,” Steve mutters. Even like this, tired, traumatized, and probably still terrified, Bucky has jokes. 

Ones he finds terribly amusing, apparently. He grins and cants up his own hips under Steve’s weight, not getting far, but moving enough to press his erection up against Steve’s cotton-clad ass. “Show me what you’ve got. Those USO dancers teach you any new moves?”

Giving the first tentative roll of his hips forward, Steve shakes his head and bites his lip as Bucky’s cock presses more firms against him. “You’re just getting the same old ones.” Then, looking up at Bucky through his lashes while he grinds down again, “Thought about nicking one of their skirts, though.”

Bucky grunts when Steve rocks down against him, whistling out low and settling his eyes on the bulge of Steve’s hard on straining against the front of his shorts. “As if these things aren’t indecent enough. No wonder they were parading you around to the country in this get-up.” 

“Yeah, well,” Steve’s voice comes out strained. “Only one I really wanted to see it was you, Buck.”

“I sure am getting an eyeful now.”

Eventually, the longer Steve works himself on Bucky’s lap, the more worked _up_ he gets. It’s hard not to- ever since he took the serum he’s run a little hot under the collar, and like he said- it’s been a while. Not to mention how good the soft material of his shorts feels rubbing against him and the firmer contrast of Bucky’s warm body and erection that’s pressing against him underneath, warma and wonderful and everything Steve has been missing. 

He’s a bit thinner than is probably ideal for how much muscle the military has put on him since he shipped out, has a few too many bruises for Steve’s liking, but the smattering of chest hair and sight of his dogtags pooling against his collarbones has Steve drooling for him despite the concern. He’s watching Steve rub off against him like the cat that got the cream, anyhow, expression satisfied at every breathy draw Steve using his body draws out. 

As much trouble as Steve is having keeping his mouth shut now that he’s discovering he can actively make noise during sex without having an asthma attack, Bucky can’t seem to keep _his_ mouth shut for long either. 

“How’s that feel, sugar? S’it good?” Again, the telltale sound of Brooklyn built into his voice has Steve’s heart twisting, just as much as his stomach does when Bucky’s next words pitch lower. “Your pretty cock aching in your panties for me?”

Steve’s breath hitches, and his arms go so weak he has to lean forward and brace them around Bucky’s sides, head dropping with a groan that comes out a little too loud. “They’re not-“

“They might as well be with how fuckin’ _short_ they are, sweetheart. Look like a good time guy, all dressed up like this.” He adjusts his arms behind his head with a lazy smile and heavy exhale, biceps flexing. “You fast enough to let me have this body’s first time too?”

Steve’s heart does a flip, hands digging into the bedspread Bucky’s lounging on top of and hips giving a frantic jerk forward that Bucky tracks greedily with his eyes. Jesus. Steve _is_ fast, at least for him- ten minutes of humping on him like some sort of horny teenager and he’s ready to blow like Bucky’s gotten in him already. 

He bites his lip for what feels like the millionth time that night, tiny whimper slipping free, Bucky’s cock harder than ever pressing against his ass. “Yeah, Buck- _please_ , only want it to be you- only ever gonna be you-“ He’s only getting himself more worked up the more that he babbles on, but thankful Bucky is there to shush him, finally raising an arm up to press his fingers over Steve’s mouth. 

His expression is soft, even while his words have a careful note of steel to them. “Open up. Suck.” 

It’s the first order Steve is glad to have received since he’s come over here (and, well, ever probably). He does as he’s told as quickly as he can, and when Bucky’s digits push in, he sucks on them like they’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, like they’re fine wine instead of gun calloused flesh. 

Bucky’s eyes don’t leave him. “That’s good, honey. That’s real good. Go ahead and get ‘em wet for me, you know where they’re gonna be going after you get those shorts off.” That’s a promise if Steve ever heard one. And Bucky _always_ makes good on those. 

So he obeys, tongue laving over the undersides of them, mouth suckling around the bases until he can feel spit leaking out just as steady as his cockhead is in his shorts. It’s so filthy it’s embarrassing, but it’s all worth it when Bucky finally pulls them free and pushes himself up with his free arm to capture Steve in a heated kiss that makes his head tip dizzy. 

Bucky’s a good kisser. Always has been (Steve chooses not to dwell on where the experience comes from before they got their act and themselves together), but after so many weeks going without their usual daily exchanges and press of his lips, Steve falls in love with him for it all over again. In fact, it might be even better now with how sensitive the serum has made him all over- back home in Brooklyn, Bucky is usually fastidious with his grooming, but now there’s a layer of stubble scraping against Steve own clean-shaven skin that makes him feel like he’s gone wild. 

Bucky laughs low into his mouth, tongue flicking out to lick in slow and dirty, a tease before he pulls away and looks at Steve with an expression equal parts fond and filthy. “Hey,” he says, tipping their heads together. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve breathes back. 

“You gonna take those shorts off so you can ride me?” At Steve’s quick nod, Bucky laughs again and pats him on the ass before motioning for him to climb off onto the bed next to him and strip his lower half, leaning over for himself and pulling a small container of vaseline out from his uniform pants draped over a nearby chair in the meantime. Steve gives him a questioning look, but Bucky just shrugs. “Took it from the med tent earlier. They had plenty.” He grins, and pulls Steve back down onto him heavily by the waist when he’s got his cock bared again. “And I had _plans_.”

With that, he smacks the flat of his still spit-soaked fingers against Steve’s hole, a move so sudden that Steve embarrassingly jolts and almost falls off Bucky’s lap in all of his serum-enhanced glory. Turns out that despite the field coordination it gave him, getting used to carrying the extra bulk in casual situations has made him a little...situationally clumsy. 

He’s humiliated, but Bucky just catches him around the waist to steady him and laughs happily, leaning up against the headboard so their eyes are someone level when he looks at him. “You ready for me to open you up?”

Steve exhales heavy at the feeling of Bucky’s damp fingers prodding at his entrance, pad of one already almost pressed inside. “Yeah, Buck. I’m good.”

“Course you are, sweetheart,” Bucky croons, and Steve might bite back a little at that in normal circumstances, but a second later Bucky is slowly working his finger inside Steve’s new body for the first time and it’s all he can do to pitch forward and bury his face into Bucky’s shoulder so he doesn’t let out a moan loud enough to bring down the whole damn hotel. Bucky groans himself, hand digging into Steve’s bare hip. “Jesus, you’re so _tight_. S’it all for me? You waited for me to be the one to get to break this new body in?” Steve nods weakly into his neck, and Bucky twists to kiss his hair. “Giving me your first time all over again, Stevie, you’re a miracle and a half. Only damn good thing over here.”

“You’re not mad I came?” Steve doesn’t mean to say it, not right _now_ , but he’s worn down enough from the gentle headspace Bucky has him in for it to slip out. 

Bucky pauses for a brief moment, and Steve js about to apologize for messing things up, but before he can Bucky’s second finger is pressing up against him and working right inside while Bucky searches for an answer. 

“I’m not glad you’re gonna experience this too,” he eventually settles on. “But how can I be mad about seeing you, Steve? Feels like half my soul is missing when you’re not by my side. If you’re here, I’m glad it’s with me.” He twists his fingers in deeper, and Steve cries out so loud he has to bite his tongue. “But we will be talking about what you and I classify as _stupid_ later, because pal, I think we have some differences on that matter.”

“ _After_ you fuck me?”

Bucky huffs, belly moving warm against Steve’s cock pressing between them. “After that, yeah.” His voice gets softer. “We have some time to make up for, don’t we?”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut so his words don’t come out thick when he answers, hands curling into Bucky’s biceps like a vice trying to hold him down. “Thought that’s what we were doing right now,” he jokes quietly. 

Bucky scissors his fingers open and hums thoughtfully, like Steve’s responding whimper holds a meaning Steve himself is too dumbed down to decipher. “Want you to sit on my cock, ride me. You up for that, sweetheart?” As if _Steve_ should be the one too worn down to put in the work after what Bucky’s been through. 

Steve pushes back a bit onto Bucky’s fingers just to test how loosened up he is, and finding the slide easy (or as easy as it’ll get with just spit, anyways), he nods his assent. “Anything you want, Buck.” He means that in truth to a borderline frightening degree. 

Bucky still takes a few more extra moments to prod around inside Steve, wiggling a third finger in and grinning when he finds Steve’s sweet spot, shown by the tiny whine the motion elicits. “You ready for me to get slicked up?” Steve is ready enough to take the initiative to do the job himself, honestly. He holds out his hand in silent askance, eyes flicking down to the vaseline. Bucky groans and fucks his fingers in a final time before putting them free, leaving Steve achingly empty. “Here, sweetheart, if you wanna do it instead.”

He hands over the vaseline with the top of the tin already flicked off so that Steve can dip his fingers right inside without even having to pause before he’s scooching himself back onto Bucky’s thighs and smearing the slick of it over Bucky’s waiting cock. 

Bucky’s head tips back at the friction, eyes fluttering shut and a pleased rumble coming from his chest as Steve strokes over him with a hand whose touch isn’t yet familiar. He likes it just as much as he had before, it seems, and Steve feels his chest unwind a bit at that. This is in truth the first time he’s felt like himself in this new body, the familiarity everything else is lacking finally bringing him home. 

Bucky, as lazy as he’s been acting tonight, at least finds it in him to dip his own fingers in the slick and reach around to smear a bit of it over where he’s going to be breaching Steve momentarily, fingertips sliding back inside and getting Steve moaning back into his neck. 

“You ready, pretty?” Bucky murmurs, stroking over his rim with gentle fingers. Steve has been ready since Bucky first smiled at him in the bar- now, he just nods and tries not to jump again when Bucky smacks over his hole a second time, expression wicked. “Alright then. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“I’ve had enough of shows on the road,” Steve sighs, smiling when Bucky snorts and then whimpering when it’s followed by another tweak to his nipple. 

“Sit on it for me,” he murmurs. “Fill yourself up, c’mon now. Said you wanted to, now go ahead and ride me.”

Steve gives what feels like a full body shudder- and there's a lot more of him to carry that out than there was before- shifting up to straddle properly over Bucky’s stabilized cock, blunt wet head of it pressing against him and nudging inside his stretched out body even before he properly sinks down to take it all in like Bucky ordered. Once he does, though…

“Oh, god,” he breathes, hands clutching tight at Bucky’s shoulders while the other man grunts and forces his hips still underneath him. “Buck-“

Bucky’s eyes are dark, lip caught between his teeth as Steve bottoms out, shivering with the stretch. “Yeah?” he says lowly. He slides a hand up from Steve’s waist to rest over the star on his chest and feel his heartbeat pounding steady underneath, a movement that makes Steve want to sob with how familiar it is, even though it’s not necessary anymore. “You feeling all full up?”

Steve makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat. “ _Please._ ”

“Please what? Follow through on those promises I made you earlier?” Bucky leans in to kiss him, sighing into it when Steve lifts up and drops back down the barest amount. “S’that what you want?”

“Want _you,_ Buck,” Steve groans, grinding down and smearing his pre-come wet cock between their bellies. “Just- just want you. I’ll be good. Swear it.”

Bucky takes in a deep breath and kisses him again, Steve moaning into it when he brushes up against his own sweet spot. “You got me, Stevie. Always got me.” Then, smiling slightly and sliding the hand still on Steve’s hip up under the hem of his shirt, “You remember what I said I was gonna do?” His hand pushes up further, dragging the fabric with it until Steve’s stomach and abdomen are exposed. “What I promised?”

Christ. Steve’s gonna die before the night’s over if Bucky-

Bucky gives Steve a final kiss, a wicked look, and a wink before ducking his head and both hands down to pull Steve’s shirt hem over his head. 

Steve’s letting a whimper out even before he feels Bucky’s mouth on him, lips pressing right over his sternum at the same time he drops a hand back down to Steve’s waist and guides him to rock down on his cock. It’s obscene, the way Bucky’s head stretches at the fabric as he moves, and Steve can’t see what he’s doing- doesn’t know what’s coming next, can’t even catch a hint with Bucky purposefully keeping himself obscured like this. Something about it makes Steve’s cock twitch, and that’s _before_ Bucky actually gets around to doing what he promised, sealing his warm, wet mouth around Steve’s left nipple and sucking with purpose. 

He wants to ride Bucky like he said he would, but he also doesn’t want to knock his teeth out with the movement- his fucked out brain is taking a little too long on the upswing to work out a solution, but luckily Bucky solves the problem for him, pulling away briefly to mutter out, “go slow” before going right back in. Grateful for the direction, Steve does, starting out at a painfully leisured pace of grinding down against Bucky’s cock while Bucky switches between kissing and pinching at both sides of his chest underneath his uniform top. 

Steve should maybe be a bit concerned about Bucky stretching it out, considering he doesn’t know if he’ll actually never have to wear it again, but he can’t quite find it in himself to care. Not when Bucky is moving his tongue like _that_ with Steve sat on his dick as if that’s exactly where he belongs. There’s nowhere else he would rather be, anyways. 

His suspicion about his chest being a new hot spot on his body from earlier is most definitely correct- Bucky’s cock inside him will take the prize overall every time, but the mere tease the brunette is giving his chest is enough to have him letting loud and loose in a way even Bucky opening him up didn’t get him. It’s a bit embarrassing, but Bucky’s always had a filthy mouth, and Steve? Steve’s been a sucker for it for as long as he can remember. 

Bucky keeps at it, sucking in what Steve can tell are going to be hickeys on his pecs, blowing out streams of cool air over made-sensitive areas and making Steve squirm around him, already slow pace faltering whenever Bucky flicks over him particularly dirty or rubs his stubble against him just right. 

Honestly, coming out of the chamber Steve had been a little miffed to realize he still wasn’t able to have much body hair, but if this is what a bare chest gets him, he’s glad for his and Bucky’s contrast on that front. 

Eventually, after a few more minutes of what feels like on-edge torture, Bucky pulls his head out from under Steve’s shirt to take a breather, hair mussed and mouth redder than sin. His grin is just as slick. 

“Ready to take a real ride, sugar?” he asks, voice pitched so low it makes Steve feel embarrassingly the opposite when Bucky nudges his hips up to push his cock in deeper and pulls out a stuttered moan from Steve’s chest. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yeah,” Steve manages, hips already rocking down like he’s been aching for the past little while. God, Bucky’s a tease. 

Thankfully, it looks like he’s done teasing, at least for the night. 

Mostly. “Do me a favor?” he asks, giving Steve a coy look before rolling up the hem of Steve’s shirt once more, this time bringing it up higher and higher until he has it dragged up in front of Stevems mouth. “Hold that for me. I wanna see that new rack of yours _bounce._ ” It’s clear from his expression that he doesn’t mean for Steve to do it with his hands. Face burning, Steve accepts the hem between his teeth and tries not to whimper too loud when Bucky catches his gaze, hot and heady. “You look at me while you’re taking my cock, doll. Got it?” Steve nods, and Bucky smiles. “Good.”

That’s all there is to say, it seems, because next thing Steve knows, Bucky has both hands on his waist and is guiding him to shift up only drag him right back down with a thrust that meets his efforts halfway. 

It’s all an escalation from there, one that has Steve coming undone far too quick and much too easy. His chest is bouncing just like Bucky wanted, and every bit of momentum that ripples through him- a raise and lower down onto Bucky’s cock that hits his sweet spot and makes him groan followed by the feeling of his chest feeling the aftermath if movement- goes straight to his dick pressed between them. Since Bucky is sitting up, his belly is right there, lean and level enough for Steve’s head to catch against the skin and smear pre-come all through his happy trail. 

It’s _good_. Steve has missed this so much, enough for his eyes to squeeze shut despite Bucky’s orders to keep looking at him, desperate tears suddenly close to leaking out. From physical sensation or emotion, Steve doesn’t quite know, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is Bucky, bruised and beautiful beneath Steve, groaning out and lazily letting Steve ride him like his life depends on it. Maybe his heart does. He doesn’t know. 

But Bucky’s cupping his face a moment later, so something must be shining through. “Stevie,” he says quietly, voice grainy and gentle with Steve still working himself around him. “Look at you, honey. You know how beautiful you are like this, giving yourself over for me?” Steve just lets out a breathy noise, unable to talk with the fabric still in his mouth, and Bucky smiles. “All of me’s for you too, sweets. C’mon and take it, take it and be a good boy for me.” Steve lets out a muffled moan, eyes squeezing shut so tight that a few tears leak out just from the effort, but Bucky isn’t done talking. “You take it so good, baby. Pretty dick leaking all over me, sweet new tits bouncing- a sight for sore eyes, I’ll tell you that.”

“M’gonna come,” Steve gets out hoarsely, shirt falling down soaked with drool, thighs trembling with the effort of keeping up the pace he’s been going at. “Buck- please, let me, wanna make you- you first, please-“ 

He’s babbling again, but Bucky shushes him this time too, kissing him now that his mouth is free. “I’m almost there too, Stevie, just a little more,” he grits out. “Gonna fill you up- make you forget about _anyone_ else who wants to have you.” 

“They _can’t_ ,” Steve gasps, resolution coming through his words crystal clear as Bucky sets to helping him bring his hips down at a furious pace. “No one can but you, Buck.”

That statement is what sends Bucky over the edge, coming with a guttural groan that he lets out into Steve’s sweat damp neck as he rides it out and holds him close with arms that somehow feel just as strong as Steve’s own. It’s safe and surrounding, slick and sweaty and objectively disgusting, but it ends up being what sends Steve over the edge too with a little additional help from Bucky lazily wrapping a hand around him and jerking him off until he comes with a shout over both of their stomachs and the uniform shirt. 

Muscle memory is enough for Steve to relax without having to drift back up from the blissed out space Bucky has sent him to, Bucky tugging them both down to sprawl on the bed with him planted on his back and Steve curled up on his chest like a blanket, still joined together. Like they’ve done a million times before. 

Bucky might be a bit more jaded, Steve a bit more muscular- but it’s still _right._ It still fits. _Steve_ still fits.

Bucky, as always, is the first one to break the reverie after a few minutes of steady breathing. “Yeah, we’re definitely keeping that outfit, sweetheart.” He peers down at it’s come-covered state with a slight grimace. “If it isn’t a lost cause to wash.”

“Hmmmm, yeah.” Steve noses sleepily into his neck, ignoring their surroundings for the time being in favor of snuggling closer to Bucky. He hasn’t had a good night’s rest since Bucky left New York, and frankly, he’s exhausted from all the work he’d out in tonight with Bucky deciding to be a lazy bastard and whatnot. 

That’s what makes it entirely ironic when Bucky is the one patting him on the ass a few moments later, moving to pull out and signalling for Steve to get up. “C’mon, punk. We need to wash before we’re lost causes too. There’s a bathtub, might as well tske advantage of it.”

Steve makes a mournful noise, flopping on the bed and using his new size entirely to his advantage to prevent Bucky from hauling him up. “Can’t we just use a cloth?”

“And have you show up tomorrow looking like I ran you through? Baby, c’mon. Up and at ‘em.” Steve grumbles but obeys, still pliant enough to hold back on the protesting. 

He might be a super soldier, but apparently even the serum doesn’t account for good sex, because he’s pleased to find there’s still a hitch in his step when he pads behind Bucky to the bathroom. He’s got a dopey, fucked out grin on his face when Bucky turns to strip him of his shirt and get ready to set it to soak in the sink. 

The older man raises an eyebrow at it. “How’s the weather up there, huh?”

Steve sighs and slumps against Bucky once he’s naked, not moving even when he turns to flip the spigot and start heating the water for a bath up. “Bright and shiny,” he murmurs, tilting his face into Bucky’s neck and nudging his cheek against the stubble found there. He knows Bucky’ll shave it off by tomorrow morning now that he has the luxury again, but that doesn’t mean Steve can’t enjoy it for now. 

“Well then, sunshine, how’d you feel about washing my hair?”

Steve lifts his head muzzily and squints at him. “I marched across halfa Europe just to see you,” he hums. “Guess I can spare you a wash.”

Bucky laughs tiredly and kisses Steve’s hair, cuffing over his neck affectionately and making Steve feel ridiculous for ever even questioning that he’d still want him. His voice is as fond as ever when he speaks. “I love you, you little punk.”

Steve’s not exactly so little anymore, but the way Bucky as looking at him? The nickname still fits, just as well as the _I love you_. 

“Love you back, jerk.” 

**Author's Note:**

> per usual: i hope you enjoyed! i also hope you’ll leave me some feedback because the lord knows i’m always begging for it. steve’s booty shorts deserve it all.


End file.
